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​Man U Luv Ta Hate

This song is by Sir Mix-A-Lot and appears on the album Return Of The Bumpasaurus (1996).

Y'all bustas just don't know
Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show
The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes
If you want to playa hate, eat a big 'ole snake

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

I can memorize your number but I still don't know your name
The conservatives are thinking, I'm a pimp
Just because I kind of stroll with a limp
But I still got love for the few who stayed down
But some of my ex's ain't around, why is that?
'Cause the rock, man, got them and their butt's just dropped

They started losing weight, their grill's looking shot
So I switched her, I'm steadily keepin' 'em mixed up
I'm keeping, down and holding my crown and giving them hiccups
Boo hooing when you call me but we was playing
On each other so you are wrong, see, sitting around anti-nails
Your disputing my sales, fantasizing 'bout counting my mail

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

Lady listen, do I really make your man that pissed?
Flipped it around and tell your man like this
If you hate Mix, than why you talk about Mix?
You say, you ain't a trick but you trippin', so she's splittin'
Now she's coming out to Mrs. Ponderosa
She drove a beater so I heard her getting closer

She got an old V-Dub, Volkswagen with the damaged exhaust
But she was fine, so I figured I could toss
And watch the 808 kick drum, makes this girlie get dumb
She's grabbing on my bum tryin' to get one
And I'm taxing, waxing, I gotta take a note
Farted on the down stroke

Playa's in the house can you feel me
Got these playa haters lookin' at me silly
But with this mouthpiece a brother's gotta win
The ladies say you are fine, but your mackin' is kind of thin

No more Broadway, I'm hollering Rainier
Swoop around blocks dropping windows yelling, "Come Here"
And you complain 'cause I mad a little change
It's all in the game, boy to hell with the fame

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

Y'all bustas just don't know
Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show
The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes
If you want to playa hate, eat a big 'ole snake

I got my buck on them rolling down to Cali, I got a brand new home
Out in the valley, jumping off I-5, I crack a left-eye got to pick my homey up The attitude adjuster, seven in a jet black truck
With a deaf black G-Lock
In case we out of luck, 'cause with these haters you gotta keep your strap
'Cause we taking all their sugars now they tryin' to take us back, yep

So you got your and I got mine
So why do you whine about my grind?
Sitting around blaming Mix-a-Lot for your situation
Boy get a job and quit player hatin'

It ain't about winning your respect
I'm just checking more mail than you check
So heres the finger next to my index
I'm all about your lady 'cause she's all about the sizex, sex

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle
It's the man you love to hate
The J.R. Ewing of Seattle

Yeah, the Pacific time zone's head honcho
The amigo force feed you, sure of this bad ass ego
You know what I'm saying? Try going platinum suckas
Dos, tres watch out for Cuatro, Motherfm

Written by:

Anthony Ray